«My greatest fear is not being a meteor, no. My biggest fear is another: it's being a freak. That really scares me”: it is more or less halfway through a very pleasant hour of conversation that this phrase comes out, a phrase that cuts like a blade and which could really summarize a lot of what Sarafine is today, especially what she really wants today, now that he finally reaches the finish line of his actual recording debut with the EP – but it's almost an album – A trauma is forever.
Let's rewind the tape for a moment and understand the matter better: just at the moment in which there is so much talk about a real release: A trauma is forever. A sort of long EP or, if you prefer, quasi-album: seven songs are in fact quite a few and, honestly, there aren't any fillers, they are all interesting musical creatures with a certain personality (the only clever and inevitable help: insert that as the final track Sick of joy which is the trace that sent her into the hyper-uranium of x-factorian fame). Seven tracks that arrive, how can I put it, a bit calmly: in fact, perhaps the iron could have been struck earlier, to take advantage of the hype of a victory now a year old and overshadowed, in the general chatter, by that of the edition of this year.
Be that as it may, we really liked this “I don't want to be a freak” thing. And as soon as she said the phrase in question, we immediately asked her to elaborate on it, to delve deeper into the concept: knowing among other things how much television – which still remains the context that launched her and gave her initial fame – is in love with « freak shows.” Was it by any chance a dig? Sara has a ready answer: «But you see, while I was on the X Factor I never felt like a freak. Never. And I was never afraid, never had any worries.” Break. «But I was already worried about what could happen next… That, yes». Another pause, to resume: «The fear was that of being transported into dynamics that I didn't know well, and being dragged by it».
Okay. Understandable. And did it happen? «Fortunately, no. But perhaps you could also say: unfortunately…”, and here she bursts into full laughter and then explains better, becoming serious: «Some might consider it unfortunate not to have entered into a certain type of dynamics, of mechanisms. Because then people don't see me around and start saying 'But that? Where? What happened to him? It's gone, and you can't even blame him.” No, huh? “No. But the only thing that matters is that I never became a freak. I realized that that was the thing that really mattered. Whether it appears or not, it doesn't have to worry me too much: I know that they are there for me, that I can look at myself in the mirror, that I am doing what is right to do, and I mean – right for me. I'm alive, in short, and I have nothing to blame myself for. I'm calm. Then it's natural that if there isn't a high level of media coverage around you, people might run the risk of forgetting you: so many things come out today every day that you can imagine if they're waiting for you… But you see: I told myself that my life and my career couldn't depend on being hosted on television. No. I shouldn't have and I shouldn't be reduced to this.”
Honestly? It is not the first time we have heard these concepts, much less in the mouths of those who originally had them shortcut – do we want to call it that? – of the fame that came more from the schedules of generalist television than from the sweaty apprenticeship on the stages: it is often a perfect fox and grapes strategy. The auto-populist pattern of “easy fame doesn't interest me, I want to stay pure” is often a smoke screen through which one tries to hide the panic and fear of the glittering success that does not arrive in the expected terms, or no longer arrives , once the television honeymoon is over. But if body language and voice inflection play a role, we are told that yes, Sarafine is quite sincere while saying the above.
«After the victory on X Factor, for a moment I actually lived with my feet in a bit of a bind. I was on two tracks at the same time, not knowing or understanding which of the two I actually wanted to follow. The X Factor had been an illusion in its own way, true. But do you know why? Not for the success itself. No. But because it had given me the illusion, I fear in fact it's just an illusion, that I could achieve success and reach a very large audience by always doing what I liked. It's only when X Factor ended, and I collided with everyday life with the outside world, that I realized that maybe it's not really like that. At a certain point I really had to ask myself: what do I want to do? Do I first of all want to be mainstream, and reach as many people as possible? Or is my priority instead to be myself? I believe the answer to this question lies precisely in what he came up with A trauma is forever: a record that, let's face it, you have to go looking for a bit.” Meaning what? What do you mean? «The way it is made, I don't think it can become a mass success». Okay.
photo: press
Attention. We are not talking about an experimental, absurd, iconoclastic release. But delving deeper into the discussion on various artistic references, in fact – and this probably demonstrates the sincerity of intent – Sarafine brings out not only some obvious Skrillex (the opening track Shrug is clearly the daughter of Skrillexian dubstep) or Chemical Brothers but also of non-trivial things, which indirectly speak in favor of her absolute sincerity, of her non-calculation: «Before I even became a real musician, a real epiphany for me was seeing the finals of a beatboxing competition and the creative use of the loop station that many beatboxers made. I still remember now as soon as I saw the performance of the winner of that year, SARO, I literally started crying, you know? His skill had literally killed me, moved me: only with his voice, the noises generated by his mouth and the loop station he managed not only to drag the audience along, but to continue to surprise them. “I want to do this thing here”, I said to myself, “I want to amaze the public, I want to really capture their emotions, not just entertain them”».
Considering how niche beatboxing is, a matter for terminal hip hop enthusiasts if enjoyed consciously (otherwise, it becomes a mere sideshow that leaves no trace after three minutes…), this says a lot about Sarafine and her non-trivial approach towards music. «Watching SARO in action I immediately thought that I also wanted to create that type of empathy with the public, with those who listen to me, an empathy based on surprise. I don't have and will never have his technical skills, he is a genius in his field, but seeing him in action really opened my mind.”
Still speaking in a rather technical way about music, other rather interesting and not obvious things emerge with Sarafine in our conversation: «For now I'll go around alone live. On the other hand there is more than one track on the album that is distinctly dance, and how the hell do you reproduce that with a band? Even though my dream would be to do it. You know, during the years I spent working in Brussels I discovered some incredible bands, like Echt!, or Tukan», and here the virtual hug already starts because Echt! they are a cult group for whoever is writing these lines, «that is, those groups capable of making electronic, more downtempo, trap and dark in the case of Echt! and more dance in the case of Tukan, but really playing, playing instruments. Succeeding is very difficult.” Yes: you really have to think music in a particular way. Real. «I still have to mature; but I would like to be able to offer live shows of this type. I'm ambitious. The truth is that I am ambitious, yes. Ambitious, but at the same time humble: I have high goals, but I know that I can only get there with small steps.”
Ambitious-but-humble, nice. Perfect. And in any case, also self-ironic in the right way: for example when it demystifies. at least in part. the whole narrative that made her famous, the one around the fact that she left an excellent job in the world of finance to pursue the dream of music, a very edifying and very popular story in times of Big Quit And Great Resignation. «In reality, when I decided to resign I didn't have the slightest idea of what I was going to do. Yes, in reality I was already telling people back then that I did it for the dream of becoming a professional musician, right… But the truth is that this was just something said to give a motivation, any one whatsoever: I didn't believe in it too much either. I must have had thirty people following me on my social media account where I showed off my artistic ambitions, at that moment… I was only interested in saying enough with that job. And when I finally did, well, what a release it was. “That's fine,” I said to myself, “you made the right choice. Even if now you have nothing concrete to do anymore, and you've ended up in limbo.” Instead, look at what happened, think about it, other than limbo, who would have ever thought…”, and here another sincere and crystalline laugh starts.
Self-irony to the right degree and a sense of proportion even when Sarafine talks about herself as a musician: «No, I'm not a nerd. I'm not one of those people who wastes a day's work around a single sound. I'm something else: I'm a control freak, yes.” He specifies better: «In general, I am not and I believe I will never be one of those mega nerds of electronics, of experimentation: there is a part of me that will always lead me towards pop, towards simplification. At the same time, however, I am very stubborn in my desire to have everything under control, to be sure that what I do is something particular, personal. Also for this reason I don't listen to much music that could be in some way similar to mine, here in Italy.” Oh no? I just wanted to ask you if Cosmo was perhaps an influence for you, in mixing singing, speaking and dance styles… «No, look: if you asked me about some Italian artists I would mention John De Leo and Quintorigo or, I don't know, Brunori, people who therefore do something very different from what I do.” Aren't you mentioning Brunori just because he's your fellow countryman? Another laugh: «Do you mean that I'm just a paracula who wants to promote Calabrian products in the world?». Eh. «…who knows, maybe it's like this: and I don't even realize it!».
